


And A Time To Learn

by rommunisms



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Just pro-Ferengi propaganda, Power of Friendship, Pre-Slash (if you want)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rommunisms/pseuds/rommunisms
Summary: Set after 1x11 "The Nagus". Jake has been teaching Nog to read; Nog wants to return the favour.
Relationships: Nog & Jake Sisko, Odo/Quark (implied), if you squint
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	And A Time To Learn

"And they... lived... they lived happily ever after. The end!"

Nog slammed down the PADD with a triumphant grin. "I did it!" he crowed. "I finished it! It wasn't even that hard."

Jake grinned back at him. "It's easy once you know how," he said. "You learned pretty quick, though."

"My grandmoogie says brains run in the family. Though they may have skipped over my dad." 

The two boys' laughter echoed around the shadowy cargo bay. It was funny, Jake thought, how your perception of a place could change completely in such a short time. Just a few weeks ago he hadn't known this nondescript part of the station even existed. Now, it had become one of his favourite hideaways.

He looked fondly around at the stacks of cushions he had begged from the Bajoran temple, the little collection of PADDs containing reading materials that Ms O'Brien had allowed him to borrow, the old-style fusion lamp that his dad had given him to allow them to work late into the night. Their impromptu classroom.

"What did you think of the story?" he said.

"Oh, it didn't make much sense. The idiot gets rewarded for philanthropy and the clever sisters are punished for looking for opportunity! And the princess marries a nobody just because he makes her laugh! Hu-mon stories always get everything backwards." The Ferengi waved his hand dismissively. "But that's not the point! I finished it, didn't I? I can read!" 

Jake couldn't help sharing his friend's obvious joy. Truthfully, he was a little proud of himself, too; teaching Nog to read Federation Standard hadn't been an easy project. They had spent a lot of frustrating evenings in this cargo bay, and there had been shouting and even tears - more than once, Jake recalled with a grimace. But it was worth it, in the end, to see Nog so pleased.

"Hey," he said, putting a hand on Nog's shoulder. "Well done. You really did learn quickly."

"I had a good teacher, I guess" Nog replied, with an uncharacteristically shy smile. 

Jake felt himself blushing slightly, and let go of Nog's shoulder again.

The shadows of cargo crates and unknown machinery seemed to loom around and over their little circle of light. It was probably getting quite late.

"Say, Mister Genius Teacher," Nog said abruptly. "I bet you couldn't learn to read as fast as me."

"Huh?" Jake blinked at Nog, who was now grinning, showing off a slightly unsettling array of razor-sharp teeth. "But- but I already know how to read," he said, off-balance.

"How to read Ferengi, stupid! I can borrow some old books from my dad, he does own a few books, believe it or not... I'll bring them tomorrow. Bet you five slips of latinum it takes you longer than it took me!" 

Jake frowned. "Why would I want to learn Ferengi?"

Nog frowned back at him. "What do you mean? Why not?"

"Well, I mean, we don't learn it at school. We only learn Federation Standard and Bajoran so we can read if the translators fail, and to read, you know, books and religious texts and stuff..."

"Ferengi have books too," said Nog. There was something defensive in his tone that hadn't been there before. "And anyway, there are lots of us living on the station now, maybe they _should_ teach it in the school."

"But-" Jake faltered in the face of Nog's darkening expression. To be honest, the thought of learning to read the Ferengi script, with its infamously complex spiral layout and challenging orthography that varied according to the relative status of the writer and the intended audience, had never even occured to him. He couldn't even speak more than a few words of the language, which wasn't included in the standard Federation education curriculum. Most of the words he did know were untranslatable swear words he had overheard at Quark's.

"Well, I mean, it's not really... that useful," he said, weakly. "The language isn't really used outside of Ferenginar..."

"Federation Standard isn't used outside of the Federation."

Jake opened his mouth to say that that wasn't true, that everyone knew Federation Standard was the lingua franca of business and diplomacy in many parts of the alpha quadrant, but to his surprise he was interrupted before he could speak.

"Oh, now I see how it is," Nog exclaimed angrily. "I should have known. That's typical Federation!"

The Ferengi had stood up and was stuffing the PADD back into his bag. Jake stared, dismayed.

"Nog, hang on, I just meant-"

"I guess this must have been fun for you," Nog said acidly, glaring down at him. "Playing schoolteacher to the poor Ferengi boy. Well, my compliments, you reached your objective. You don't have to waste any more time on me! I don't even know why I wanted to learn how to read your stupid language, anyway."

"Nog, wait," Jake called, but it was too late. His friend had already stalked off, disappearing from sight around the nearest stack of crates. 

Jake sagged. He felt deflated, as if someone had kicked him as he sat there on the floor, surrounded by the low sounds of pipes hissing and engines humming. The cargo bay now seemed very empty with just him in it.

Brooding over what had happened, he gathered up his things and resolved to head home. He was still lost in thought when he stepped out into the quiet passageway and collided almost immediately with someone who had been walking past - someone whose body had a jarring, unpleasantly pliant texture, and seemed to ripple slightly at the impact -

"Odo?" Jake said, surprised. "What are you doing here?" 

"Good evening and sorry for walking into you, too," said the Constable drily. "As it happens, your father sent me to check on you. He said you were with Nog." He tilted his head and regarded Jake with a searching expression. "And since I just passed Nog heading towards the bar in a state of some agitation, I'm guessing something happened between you two."

Jake sighed, his shoulders drooping again, and told Odo about the fight. 

"I don't get it. I thought Nog was enjoying our lessons. I don't understand why he got so angry."

"Don't you?"

Jake looked up. The security chief's face was unreadable.

"What do you mean?"

Odo studied the dejected teenager for a few moments, then sighed and gestured towards the empty corridor. "Here. Walk with me for a little while."

Although the station never really slept, it was relatively quiet at this time of the artificial day-night cycle. Most of the residents who weren't partaking of a synthale or a holosuite programme at Quark's were in their quarters, enjoying dinner or getting ready to sleep. Jake thought of the home-cooked meal he had left half-eaten on the table in order to make it on time to his lesson with Nog, and felt a pang of resentment. He had put a lot of work into preparing those lessons, refused all of Nog's many attempts to pay him, given up so much of his time -

"Mr Sisko," said Odo as they strolled along the upper Promenade together towards the habitat ring, "why don't you want to learn how to read Ferengi?"

The question startled Jake, who had been lost in his own resentful thoughts, and he found he didn't have a ready answer.

"It, uh." He frowned. "Well, it's difficult! And it's not useful! What's the point? It's not like Federation Standard, everyone speaks that. You need to know how to read that for, well, for everything." Nog must not have understood that, he thought, if he was able to equate the importance of the two languages. Maybe all along he hadn't realised just how vital it was to be able to read Standard; had never really appreciated what a favour Jake was doing him by teaching him.

"It is the main language of business and trade across the considerable extent of the Ferengi Alliance. That seems quite 'useful' to me."

"Everyone important in the Alliance speaks Standard anyway," Jake said, slightly cross. He was feeling hungry, and tired. "And most of them have universal translators too. No one even knows how to _speak_ Ferengi, let alone how to read their weird writing. I bet you don't," he added, accusingly.

Odo raised a brow. "You might be surprised what I know."

Jake fell silent.

The Promenade was largely deserted, quiet apart from the sounds of laughter and conversation that drifted occasionally upward from the bar. Quark seemed to be doing a decent trade that evening; looking down, Jake caught a glimpse of him, dressed in a bright purple tailcoat and looking harried, bustling to and fro behind the counter. As they proceeded, Jake got the sense that this was one of Odo's regular patrol routes; his unhurried pace was that of someone who had walked this way and watched this scene many times before.

Abruptly, Odo stopped.

"How much do you know about the Ferengi, Jake?" he asked. 

Not as much as you, I'll bet, Jake thought, smiling despite himself.

"Just a little," he said. "What we learned at school. And what my dad told me." His smile faded. "He really doesn't like them, does he?"

"Most humans don't. The Bajorans don't either." Odo's gaze was fixed on the bar, where the press of jostling patrons occasionally parted to show a flash of vivid purple.

"What many humans fail to understand," the constable continued, "is that the Ferengi are a proud people. Their culture is as ancient as that of the Bajorans. They have a long history, a rich literature, and a strong tradition of visual art, poetry, and music-"

"Music? The Ferengi?" Jake snorted. "Come on."

Odo gave him a sidelong look, the traces of a smile playing around his tight lips. "I don't see why that should be a surprise. They do have _highly_ sensitive ears."

Jake blushed. Had Odo just- he couldn't have-

Still almost-smiling, Odo resumed his surveillance of the bar. "It's true that Ferengi morals and codes of behaviour are... unpalatable, by the standards of most other sentient races," he continued. "But as a result, for hundreds of years they have been treated as culturally inferior by the rest of the alpha quadrant. Even the suggestion that they might have an advanced artistic culture is generally met," Odo paused pointedly, "with disbelief."

Jake looked at the floor, uncomfortable.

"Does it really surprise you, Jake, that a young Ferengi boy might be upset when his closest friend expresses no interest in learning about even a small part of his culture? Especially when he himself has been going against his own family's wishes in order to learn about the Federation."

Jake felt all the bitterness leave him suddenly, like the air being sucked out of an airlock. Guilt rushed in in its place. 

Of course Nog had been upset. He had offered to bring him books, to teach Jake to read Ferengi stories just like he had learned to read Earth ones. And Jake had dismissed him out of hand.

He hung his head, feeling miserable. "Wow, I messed up, huh." 

Odo inclined his head slightly, but didn't answer.

For what felt like a long time they stood there in silence, watching the distant activity in the bar. Jake wondered if Nog was in there, somewhere, or if he'd already gone back to his quarters. Rom was still working - Jake could see him hovering anxiously with a tray of smoking glasses by a table of Bolians - which meant that if Nog had gone back to his quarters he was sitting there alone. Jake felt another wave of guilt in his stomach just as Odo spoke again. This time, his rough voice was uncharacteristically kindly.

"In my experience," he said gently, "Ferengi can be quick to anger, but they are also usually quick to forgive, if they feel that the apology is genuine." He patted Jake's arm stiffly in what Jake supposed was meant to be a comforting gesture. "I'll let Commander Sisko know you'll be back a little late. If I were you, I would go and have a little chat with Nog."

"I will," Jake said. "Thanks, Odo."

"Don't mention it."

"Odo?" Jake said as the constable turned to leave.

"Hmm?"

"I've never heard you say anything that complimentary about the Ferengi before."

Odo huffed dismissively. "And you certainly won't be hearing it again. The last thing we need around here is Quark getting an ego-boost. This conversation stays strictly between us, understood?"

Jake grinned. "Understood, Constable."

He found Nog in the bar's storeroom, sullenly stacking crates of Slug-O-Cola.

"What do you want?" Nog snapped at him when he came in. "I'm working."

"Isn't it pretty late to be working?" Jake asked, forgetting what he had been about to say. Nog hissed peevishly through his teeth.

"I'm being punished for missing dinner."

Jake thought about his petty resentment over his half-finished meal and felt another twist of shame in his stomach. "Hey," he said, awkwardly. "Look, I- I'm sorry. About what I said earlier."

Nog put down the crate he was carrying and turned to stare at Jake with narrowed eyes. "Do you mean that?" he said warily.

"Yes! Of course I mean it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about your language. It was wrong of me. And... and I'd love to learn to read it."

Nog's expression was still cautious, but Jake saw his browridges relax very slightly. "Really? Your father won't mind?"

"I don't care if he minds," Jake said emphatically. Remembering something he had seen Ferengi traders do, he held out his hand, palm facing away from Nog.

"I taught you to read Standard, you teach me to read Ferengi. It's a fair trade." Jake saw Nog's eyes widen. 

Two skills of equal value. Two cultures of equal standing. A fair trade.

"It's a deal." Nog pressed the back of his hand to Jake's, then put his palm against his chest and laughed, high and loud, the way Ferengi did when they were genuinely happy. Jake found himself laughing too.

"Come on, you dumb hu-mon," Nog said, punching Jake's shoulder affectionately. "I stashed a couple of jumja sticks in the freezer behind the bar. My uncle keeps complaining that they're taking up valuable space." Nog drew himself up on his toes and schooled his features into a passable impression of Quark. "Space is latinum!" he barked.

"I guess we should take them off his hands," Jake agreed, fighting giggles.

"Then here's your first lesson." Nog held the door for Jake as they scuttled back out into the bar, Slug-O-Cola crates forgotten. "Reading the numbers on the freezer locking mechanism."

Some time later, as he passed on his last late-night patrol of the lower promenade, Odo looked up to see two pairs of skinny legs dangling through the railings above him.

"...see if I can find some of the stories my uncle used to read to me as a kid. Pelek the Pirate, that kind of stuff..."

"Pelek the Pirate?" 

"Oh wow, you don't know him... every Ferengi kid knows those stories. They're awesome... Pelek is fired from his job with the merchant fleet, so to get revenge he buys up an old Romulan warbird...."

Smiling to himself, the Changeling continued on his beat under the light of the distant stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this fic is an excuse for some Ferengi positivity :)
> 
> The existence of the Universal Translator begs the question of how, if the texts appeared to Nog in Ferengi, Jake could have taught him to read them. I tried to make that make sense by positing that Keiko would teach the schoolkids the station's "official languages" so that they could read literature, or in case of a translator malfunction. Possibly the translator can be selectively switched on and off for visual input to facilitate this.
> 
> Nog calls Ishka "Moogie" in canon, but I just think "grandmoogie" is cute.


End file.
